Wait, Virginia!
by JizzyEffrik
Summary: Set in the time of Tom Riddle, this story is about a girl named Virginia, her friends, family and Tom Riddle. Better summary inside. Read and review please! No flames please. OneShot.


**Alert, alert, longest A/N in the history of A/Ns. Well, not really. But it seems like it to me.**

**This is just your classic 'Tom Riddle falls in love with someone, but they are taken away/rejects him so he goes all evil' fanfiction. As you can tell, this is AU, but it has several canon aspects (Such as the ring and the Chamber of Secrets being opened). I'll either make this into a story. If I do, I might make it three stories, starting from the fifth year to the seventh, or just make it one huge story. This also doesn't have any chapters, it's essentially a huge freaking one-shot. XD**

**Now, I'm sorry if the Tom Riddle I describe here is not as cold and inhuman as some people describe/picture him, but in my opinion, that only happens once he kills his father **_**or**_** after the aforementioned someone that he falls in love with goes after someone else… and this is AU, so please, no flames or complaints about how 'Tom Riddle wouldn't grin as often as you say he does!' or about how 'Tom Riddle wouldn't act like that, he's the future Voldemort for frick's sake!' because, to be honest, we haven't heard enough of younger Tom Riddle to be a good enough judge of his character. I mean, sure, he seems manipulative and clever, but I'm not that smart to make a manipulative or clever enough character for your liking… I'm only thirteen! D:**

**(Essentially, if you don't like reading long A/Ns like that, then that whole paragraph says that my Tom Riddle might not be correct to your Tom Riddle, so don't flame or complain about that because this is just a fluffy, writer's block curer story. It also says that I'm not smart enough [yet] to make a detailed, manipulative, calculating, cruel, cold, clever, sly character such as Tom Riddle/Voldemort… It's one of the reasons why I try not to participate in Voldemort needed characters. Tom Riddle isn't heard of most of the time, and he, in my mind, doesn't develop the essential Voldemort-esque characteristics until later years. That is all. And to be honest, this wasn't much help.)**

**I'm lying, that's not all. I disclaim everything except my OCs and plot. JK Rowling owns all! BOW DOWN TO THE ALMIGHTY AUTHOR! *Ahem* I'm so sorry for that… Just read on -.-**

* * *

As I sat there, doodling absently the death of my annoying cousin in truly inventive ways, the Transfiguration classroom door banged open. There, in all of his crappy entirety, stood George Bradley. _What's he doing here?_ I wondered, looking at my stick-figured perception of him.

"Look, Virginia, my mum told me to tell you to tell your sister to tell her friend to tell her brother to tell Dippit to tell the Minister to tell Tom Riddle to tell you that she thinks Tom loves you."

I blinked.

"…Okay…?"

George sat on my desk, leaning into me.

"You know, if incest wasn't technically illegal, I'd soooo snog you right now…"

"Uh, no," I said, pushing him away. He leapt off the desk and sat on the edge of Professor Dumbledore's desk as the Professor chalked notes on the blackboard. George made a noise of dissent.

"You spelt Banana Fish wrong. It's not A-N-I-M-A-G-I."

Everyone blinked simultaneously. Why was George even here, you may wonder. My answer would be, I dunno. Perhaps he got kicked out of Defense Against the Dark Arts again.

"This is boring. HEY, CAT LADY, TEACH US SOMETHING USEFUL!" George yelled at the (male) Transfiguration Professor, who swiveled to give him a miffed look.

Halfway through that same Transfiguration lesson, I had snapped several quills and accidently pushed some ink bottles out of my ink well and smashing them.

To my immense frustration, George had taken to trying to serenade the miffed Professor. George took a swig of Firewhiskey and sang Odo the Hero tunelessly, whilst draping himself over Professor Dumbledore, who was obviously trying his best to ignore George.

I remembered that last year, when Professor Dumbledore gave George detention, George did his best to reenact the exact scenario that got him detention in the first place – therefore making detention useless against him.

Finally I cracked when I heard George switch the second verse to the Spanish translation and inserted swear words at opportune times.

"I'm leaving!" I yelled, grabbing my notes, quill, ink, books and bag and piling them into a messy pile, storming out of the room. Then, I returned, just as quickly as I left.

"This is my classroom! You get out!" I pointed at the door, and George hung his head, slowly shuffling out in a melancholy sort of way.

* * *

To my surprise, instead of going all for it, my friends gasped in horror.

"V… you're going to turn into a… a Mary Sue?"

"A what?"

"A Mary Sue – we read about it somewhere. It's where you have no flaws, you have the perfect guy, or guys, and you're so sickeningly perfect and sweet and… ugh," Wendy, one of my friends, shuddered. Charlotte, Minnie and Elizabeth looked solemn.

"You call this – " I asked exasperatedly, pointing to the biggest pimple in the world that happened to reside on my face, "Perfection?"

"Oh, gross, V," said Elizabeth, flinching.

"Thanks, Elizabeth," I said with a sigh, letting my dark brown fringe down to cover 'Arthur the Pimple' – as Christened by George.

"What am I going to do, as becoming a girly-girl will instantly morph me into a Mary Sue?" I asked, slightly upset.

"Hey! That rhymes!" exclaimed Charlotte excitedly.

"Not the time, Charlotte," said Minnie. Charlotte sat back in her chair, a pout upon her face.

* * *

George entered the room with a flourish. Too much, actually. The door banged against the wall and almost knocked him out as it rebounded. I groaned. How could I forget? He was in my Potions class.

"Welcome, George," said Professor Slughorn, with a slight frown creasing his forehead. I joined him, although my frown was deeper.

"Why thank you, Professor," replied George with a grin and a deep, exaggerated bow. To my horror, George made his way over to my table, bumping the daydreaming Charlotte from her chair. She glared at him and he helped her up, but he still occupied her chair without moving an inch. When she looked at him expectantly, he raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Finders keepers."

"I hate your cousin," she hissed at me, grabbing her equipment and whirling away, her blonde curls following behind her dramatically.

"Oh, believe me," I replied to her back, "I do too."

"Aww," said George, "You don't hate me, do you?"

I didn't answer him.

Professor Slughorn closed the door behind Tom Riddle, who was late – as usual. He gave a charming grin at the Professor. If I tried that, I would've gotten a detention straight away, no matter if I was in Slytherin or not (which I wasn't, thankfully. I didn't like the look of some of them).

Professor Slughorn turned his attention back to the class after Tom Riddle seated himself beside a swooning Slytherin girl.

_Get over it,_ I thought, _he's not that handsome._

"Welcome back to Potions," said Professor Slughorn, beaming at the whole class in general.

"Yes, yes, we're back. Let's get this over with so that I can go to lunch," muttered George, rearranging himself so that he looked somewhat innocent when the Professor frowned at him.

"Unfortunately, my boy, you have an intense dislike towards Potions. However, you have a talent beyond most students that have passed through these doors, not meaning to offend all of you because if you are in this class then that is something to be proud of, but George… your results were 100% on your previous exam – most remarkable, something I haven't seen for quite some time…"

The Professor trailed off, looking directly at the door, as if hoping someone would pass through them.

I glanced at Elizabeth, who was the last friend of mine that was still remaining on the table (Professor Slughorn had told the class beforehand that the potion that we were to be working on today was going to be quite difficult, and therefore we were to work in threes). She shrugged at me, and turned her attention back to Professor Slughorn.

The Professor stroked his chin thoughtfully, before continuing.

"So, George, I hope that you'll pick up your attitude – it will be very difficult to maintain your grades, and an optimistic attitude will only help you."

"Yes, sir," said George, saluting the Professor. The Professor obviously took this as a yes, and returned to address the class.

"Now, as I had informed you earlier in the week, this is a very difficult potion. In fact, I wouldn't have even _given _you the instructions on how to brew it if I wasn't so confident that you could brew this potion. If brewed incorrectly, the effects could be quite… disastrous."

Professor Slughorn shuddered, as though thinking of a particularly unpleasant memory, and many students glanced at one another. Then, he gave a hard stare towards George, as though saying, "I'm talking about you in particular," before going to his desk and lifting a cauldron from under it. He lit a small fire under the cauldron.

The effect was immediate. A sweet smell of peaches, fresh parchment and freshly laundered ties with a distinct smell that I could not place filled the room, and I inhaled deeply, not realizing that I was drawing dangerously close to George – close enough for him to brush my cheek with the back of his hand, which he did. Realizing my mistake, I abruptly fell back into my seat, disgusted by both of our actions.

However, I was not the only one out of their seat. Several girls were hugging boys enthusiastically and a Slytherin girl was almost hugging the actual cauldron.

Professor Slughorn placed a lid on the cauldron, and the girl blushed and returned to her seat. Some of the boys still had self-satisfied smirks, even though the girls had stopped giving them loving attention, while some scowled at the lack of attention. The rest of the girls fell back, some with scowls and others bright red with embarrassment.

I rolled my eyes at the scowling guys, and watched as Professor Slughorn busied himself at his desk, shuffling around parchment and books. He found the right piece of parchment and said, "Aha!"

I glanced at Elizabeth and she was fanning herself, a blush tainting her usually pale skin. I raised an eyebrow at her (which she ignored) and I turned back to the Professor, who looked quite amused.

"Now, ladies, I do not blame you for reacting in that way – many of the gentlemen were affected by the smell of the potion as well. In fact, I think some of you held them in their seats," said the Professor with a playful smirk, his eyes twinkling.

"I doubt any of you had actually been able to see the potion – all of you had been busy, after all," the Professor chuckled, then said slowly and seriously, "I will remove the cover once more, and you should all be prepared and be able to restrain yourselves. You should observe the potion instead of letting it affect you."

I clutched the desk as soon as he finished. After all, what if I rose out of my seat like I did before and George attacked me again with his hand?

The Professor removed the cover of the potion once more, and Elizabeth gasped before grabbing the desk as well. However, I was not as affected by the smell as I was before. I think it had something to do with the fact that the Professor had warned me beforehand. Perhaps I was mentally prepared for (and guarding myself against) the worst?

I let go of the desk, and observed, rather than acted out of control, spiral steam rising out of the cauldron. I rose out of my seat a little, just a tiny bit, and saw a mother-of-pearl sheen to the potion. The Professor covered the cauldron again, and I only saw the Slytherin girl, who had been about to hug the cauldron before, slump back into her seat.

"Now, what did you notice about this potion?" asked Professor Slughorn.

Elizabeth's hand shot to the air, and to my surprise, George's hand lazily rose up into the air. The Professor beamed at George, probably thinking that his talk had had an immediate effect on George, and called on him.

"It had a spiral steam rising out of the potion," said George in a somewhat bored voice.

"Excellent, take five points for Gryffindor! Miss Hail?"

"It had a mother-of-pearl sheen to it," said Elizabeth breathlessly.

"Excellent, five points to Gryffindor," said Professor Slughorn with a nod. George imitated the Professor's nod.

_Uh oh… he's acting up again_, I thought, somewhat afraid. I wasn't sure whether or not the Professor chose not to comment or if he didn't notice it.

Professor Slughorn turned on his heel and walked to the black board behind his desk, pulling out his wand. He pointed his wand at it and muttered something that I couldn't hear.

Suddenly, the black board spun and when it had finished spinning, the instructions for the Amortentia potion.

"You have just under an hour to complete the first part of this potion – this needs to settle overnight and part two will be ready to start tomorrow morning, in your next lesson," said the Professor. He stared at all of us, as if sending a message to us by his mind.

Then, he turned around again and sat at his desk.

Everyone leapt to their feet, eager to start the potion.

"Alright," I said to Elizabeth and George whilst clasping my hands together, "Who'll get the ingredients?"

"I will," said George.

"OK, then, I suppose I'll set up the utensils and you can start the fire?" I said to Elizabeth, checking to see if that was alright. She waved her hand in my general direction, already concentrating on starting the fire under the cauldron on our desk.

I ducked under the desk, grabbing my brass scales and standing up, placing it beside the cauldron. I then hurried to the cupboard that contained the scalpels, and other such items.

After bringing them to our table, we all set to work, the fire on and the ingredients sitting patiently beside the cauldron.

"Lacewig wings," announced Elizabeth, placing five sets of them into the purple potion mix. It turned into a pleasant plum colour and George stirred the potion anti-clockwise ten times while I counted several Christmas beetle eyes, making sure that I got the right amount.

"Done," said George, bored.

"Beetle eyes," I said, plopping each of them into the cauldron. The potion turned into a lighter shade.

George turned towards the cauldron beside us, and I got a bad feeling. It was empty, because there were two members in our class in the Hospital Wing (some stupid Quidditch accident - Minnie informed me about it the other day) and the last person was working with another group.

George inched towards it, looking back and forth between Professor Slughorn. Then, he quickly latched onto the cauldron, bent his head and yelled, "GOT ENOUGH AIR IN THERE?"

It echoed across the classroom, and George hurried back to us, smirking. The rest of the class was in chaos. Several girls screamed, and some of them threw scalpels and others smashed jars. One guy, who was pretty thick in my opinion, roared and punched his cauldron, spilling the half-finished potion onto the floor.

Others were in shock, and some where covering their ears and Professor Slughorn was yelling, "WHO DID THAT?"

George was laughing, the only one who was, and he stirred our potion clockwise twice. Elizabeth and I just sighed after we got over the shock and returned to our potion.

* * *

The following Friday, Minnie and I were walking towards the library, chatting about George and carrying several books that we had to return to the library.

"Seriously, V, you need to control your cousin," Minnie was saying, imitating Professor Merrythought quite accurately.

"I don't think I can," I said doubtfully, "If the teachers can't, then how can I?"

"He's proclaimed many times that he loves you," pointed out Minnie.

"Yes, but that's family love. Sometimes, kids go against their parents, even though they love them," I said, raising an eyebrow at Minnie. She blushed.

"It was not my fault!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said, pushing her playfully with my shoulders. She pushed back, and laughed. Then, she got serious again.

"I am beginning to think that he _really_ loves you."

I leapt away from her in disgust.

"Um, gross!"

"You parents are cousins twice removed," Minnie pointed out.

"Hey, just because I'm a pureblood doesn't mean I'm going to go all lovey-dovey towards George. He's a direct cousin!"

"All the same, you could use his love for you as an advantage," shrugged Minnie.

"Minnie! That's mean!" I said, shocked.

"If he gets even more annoying, someone will have to seduce him and put him on a leash, or you can put him on a leash without getting involved with him," said Minnie.

"He's such a flirt though," I said, "He might not even like me like that – for all you know, he could be in love with you and is using me as a cover."

"Whatever," said Minnie with a roll of her eyes.

We entered the library in silence.

"What do you think of Tom Riddle?" asked Minnie unexpectedly. Her question caught me off guard.

"Uh – I think he's alright looking?"

She stared at me, calculating something. Then she gasped.

"You like him!"

"What?" I shrieked, causing several Hufflepuffs to glare fiercely at me.

"You do, and you can't deny it, unless you can tell me ten horrible qualities that he has," challenged Minnie, letting go of a book in front of the _Dragons_ shelf. It soared to the top of the shelf as I thought of something unsubstantial about Tom Riddle.

"All right," I said, "He gets his way all the time. I bet he's never had anything bad happen to him."

Minnie frowned.

"He lives in an orphanage, V. A muggle orphanage."

"Does that mean I have to pity him?"

"No. But I suppose that's one."

"He barely has any emotions unless he has to lie to someone."

"Two…"

"He's a liar."

"Three."

"He's so… cold. Especially to us Gryffindors."

"Four."

"He's creepy."

"Five."

"TEN!"

"What?"

"Sorry."

"Anyway, another bad quality?"

"Uh, he talks to me sometimes, but the way he does it… scares me. It's as though he wants to see if I will I'm… good enough for something."

"Six."

"He's pureblood obsessed – one of the reason he casually says something to me."

"Seven."

"His friends are horrible to us."

"Eight."

"He's just a bad person."

"Nine, and I thought bad boys were your thing," said Minnie, teasingly.

"No, and he's just… ugh, I hate him."

"I'll count that. So, that's ten bad qualities."

"Now, what about you?"

"Huh?"

"Ten bad qualities about Tom Riddle, go!"

"Uh, all of yours except for the pureblood, and the talking to you thing."

"So, what's your two?"

"I don't know. I don't really know him."

"And you're saying that I do?"

"You talk to him!"

"Because I'm afraid to end the conversation. Sometimes I think he might curse me, or something."

"What's the worst he can do? Use an Unforgivable?"

I shrugged.

Minnie just laughed, and pulled me to another shelf to return our books.

"What… what is he _doing_?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"I don't know," said Minnie, bewildered.

George had gathered a team of first years, mainly Ravenclaws, and was now placing a hair growth charm on them. He had his own hair to his elbows, and was grinning like a maniac.

Once he completed the charm on the last first year, he said, "Are you ready?" and then pointed to another first year, who was standing by a phonograph. The first year nodded and pointed his wand at the phonograph, which began to emit music. The music reminded me of a ballet, _Swan Lake_, that I was taken to by Elizabeth, who was a muggle born and quite fond of ballets (even though she would never admit it).

I thought that the group of first years, plus George, was going to move into a ballet sequence of some sort.

I was very wrong.

The first years and George moved their heads backwards and forwards violently to the music. One of the first years was cackling madly and another was adding some weird dance movement every so often. The rest followed him, but added some more dance moves.

Then, they moved as a group down the corridor, moving their heads wildly and dancing, the first year by the phonograph pushing it along. I glanced at Minnie, bewildered, as though she had some sort of idea about what was going on. She returned my bewildered look with one of her own. Then, as though we had sent some sort of mental message to each other, we followed the group.

"George!" I yelled, trying, but failing, to push past the first years, who were now gyrating their hips violently and tossing their arms about. Minnie was glancing anxiously about.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"What – are – you – DOING?"

I finally broke through the crowd of first years who continued to dance around me as though I was one of theirs, but late. Minnie didn't even attempt to join me.

"Dancing, obviously," George said.

"How is this dancing?" I yelled. The first year at the phonograph turned up the volume and I didn't hear George's answer. I desperately pushed past another few first years and reached George.

"Stop," I commanded, unsure of what else I should say. He shook his head and kept on dancing. I walked backwards in front of him, my hands out and touching his chest, making him stop.

He sighed.

"Just ruin the fun, why don't you," he said.

"How was that fun?" I asked. He didn't answer me. Instead, he gestured to the boy at the phonograph.

"Oi, turn it off! My cousin here doesn't appreciate it!"

A loud chorus of "Aww!"s and "Party pooper!"s followed George's words. Minnie took this as her chance to return the first year's hair to their normal length.

George smirked at me.

"So, what's up with you?"

"Oh, nothing, I just had to interrupt my cousin's parade," I said sarcastically. George's blue eyes flickered to my hands, which were still on his chest, and I quickly took them off, as though his chest was burning them.

"One day soon, you'll do that without repulsion," said George casually, flicking his wand. His hair returned to his normal length and I looked at him, confused.

"What?"

George looked at my face and realization flashed in his eyes. He blushed violently, something I thought was never possible with George, and mumbled something.

"What?" I asked again.

"Never mind," he said.

"You don't just say that without explaining it," I said, a bit angrily. George took a while to respond, and I noticed that the first years were dispersing and Minnie was listening in, a little too obviously for my liking.

"They haven't told you, have they?" he asked, not meeting my eyes.

"Who haven't told me what?" I asked, slightly impatient.

"Your parents."

"What about them?"

"They haven't told you that we're set to wed four years after our seventh year."

I looked at him, confused. Then, it dawned on me and I gasped. Suddenly, it seemed as though I was drowning. Drowning in voices that I couldn't understand. I could barely feel the hand on the small of the back when, before I knew it, my world was black.

* * *

"Virginia?" a small voice asked. I turned my head to the other side of the bed, mumbling. Through my groggy thoughts, something caught my attention.

_When was I in a bed?_

"She's awake! Madam Roberts!"

I heard a clicking of heels, a scrape of a chair and I felt a small pressure on my wrist.

"Miss Bradley?" asked a woman near my head. I rubbed my eyes and slowly sat up. I blinked several times and my mind registered the room I was in as the Hospital Wing. I slowly sat up and watched dumbly as the Hogwarts Healer bustled around and placed a glass of water in my hand.

Charlotte, Elizabeth, Minnie, Wendy and George all sat around my bed. Well, George was standing, looking sullen, Wendy and Minnie were sitting on the bed next to me and Charlotte and Elizabeth were sitting in the chairs on the other side of the bed. Wendy was looking pale, Minnie was looking worried, and Elizabeth and Charlotte looked relieved.

I glanced back at my hand and took a sip of my water.

"You'll be good to go as soon as you finish that glass of water," said Madam Roberts with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, Madam Roberts," said George quietly, staring at me. To avoid looking at him, I took another sip of my water. I heard the Hospital Wing door open and close and I looked up. George was gone. Madam Roberts kept herself busy, going back into her office and doing who knows what.

Minnie suddenly gripped my hand, and looked at me seriously.

"I won't tell."

For three weeks, I didn't talk to George and for three weeks, George didn't do anything stupid or attract attention to himself.

"How long is this going to go on?" asked Charlotte, glancing at the sulky George in the corner of our Charms classroom.

"As long as it takes," I replied through gritted teeth.

Charlotte sighed, and copied down the notes into her notebook that Elizabeth had given her from her trip to France. I had already copied down the notes into my notebook and I rolled up my sleeves, waiting for more instructions.

Professor Merrythought cocked her head to one side, watching us write down the notes or wait for her.

Once the last student placed their quill onto the desk beside their notes, Professor Merrythought stood with a smile across her heavily lined face.

"Well, class, the lesson is nearly over, and because of this, I am leaving early. I am letting my teaching assistant take over for the next ten minutes, so that he can… get to grips in the classroom."

She smiled her sweet, grandmotherly smile to the nervous teaching assistant, who was quite short, but his eyes told a story of intelligence in a different point of view.

_Refreshing,_ I thought, watching him as he stood in front of the class. The Professor zipped up her bag, picked up her cat and left, with another reassuring smile at the man (or was he a boy? He didn't seem much older than the students in the seventh year) before us, who had climbed onto a desk to be able to see all of us properly.

He cleared his throat as soon as the door clicked shut.

"I am Filius Flitwick and I am 19 years old and I aspire to become a teacher at Hogwarts – a Charms Professor, in fact. I was in Ravenclaw, but I suppose that you didn't take much notice of me. No one really did. I am slightly shorter than the average first year, and that makes me very easy to slip under the radar. Before you can ask, I am part goblin – something like my great-great-grandfather. I suppose that if I were to become a father one day, my son or daughter would be considerably taller than me," he shrugged, as though being shorter than the average first year did not bother him at all.

It probably didn't bother him, but if I were in his shoes, I'd be terribly self-conscious and I would hate it.

"So, since you have been learning something from Professor Merrythought that will probably be on your OWLs, I will teach you something completely different!"

Charlotte and I glanced at each other, excited.

"I've heard that you recently completed the Amortentia potion. Therefore, I will teach you an entrancing spell. Now, remember, this is purely for fun. If I catch wind of this spell being used to humiliate or harm someone, I will humiliate and harm them," said Filius Flitwick, eyeing each and every one of us very seriously.

There was a pause, in which he fumbled for his wand.

"The incantation is _Enamorous Incantare_. Is there anyone that would like to volunteer?"

I glanced at Charlotte and I looked over at the next table where Minnie and Wendy sat. To my surprise, Elizabeth (who was sitting at the front and next to Shelly) raised her hand.

"Ah, yes, and your name is?" asked Filius Flitwick pleasantly.

"Elizabeth," replied Elizabeth.

"Well, Elizabeth, if you would like to stand here…"

Elizabeth got up and stood where Filius Flitwick pointed and I rose in my chair a little, wondering what affect the spell would have on her.

"_Enamorous Incantare_," said Filius Flitwick, waving his wand and pointing it at Elizabeth. The effect was instantaneous.

"Oh, Filius!" sighed Elizabeth. She placed a hand on his chest and whispered something in his ear that made him go bright red.

"Alright, that's enough of that," he exclaimed, still red in the face. He pointed his wand at Elizabeth and muttered, "_Aguamenti_."

As a result, a jet of water from his wand sprayed Elizabeth and she blinked several times. She glanced at Filius Flitwick and squeaked, hurrying to her seat, her face as red as a tomato.

"As you can see," said Filius Flitwick, "Water counters the spell. It can be any form of water. The person under the spell could have a shower, and the connection to you is broken, although the memory of the incident is still in there. I taught you this spell because even if it is done incorrectly, it doesn't cause harm to the target. This is one of the humiliating but gentle charms. There are more out there that can cause more disastrous effects, but, well, don't go looking for it."

He checked his watch, and beamed at all of us.

"You are now dismissed. I can't believe that was only ten minutes, but there you go. Goodbye, students, I hope to see you all at some stage again."

There was a sudden flurry of activity as everyone packed up their belongings and rushed out of the classroom.

Elizabeth looked extremely flustered and a blush tainted her cheeks. She hurried to Charlotte and me, glancing at Filius Flitwick who was watching us thoughtfully.

"Let's just go to lunch," Elizabeth whispered once Wendy and Minnie caught up.

* * *

I am ashamed to say that a week later, I had cracked. I think all of the stress of OWLs, marriage and George had finally broken through my carefully built shell.

"V?" asked Wendy after seeing me breathing heavily for a few minutes.

"What?"

"Are… are you alright?"

"Oh, of COURSE I'm alright! How can I NOT be? I mean, I'm only getting married in seven years to my COUSIN!"

Wendy looked at me, alarmed. I had forgotten that I hadn't told Charlotte, Elizabeth or Wendy. Charlotte and Elizabeth looked confused. We were all in our dorm because the common room was so rowdy, even though George had gone to bed early (he was usually the main source of rowdiness).

Minnie sighed and patted my back and pulled me to my bed.

"You don't like him like that, do you?" asked Charlotte, bewildered.

"Of course not," said Minnie for me.

"Then why are you marrying him?" asked Elizabeth.

"Betrothal," I muttered.

"A pureblood thing?" asked Wendy.

"Yes."

"But you're both blood traitors!" exclaimed Charlotte.

"But that doesn't extinguish traditions," said Wendy logically.

"There must be some way to get out of it," said Charlotte.

"There is," I replied, "but it's very difficult."

"Difficult?"

"I have to have someone else propose to me before the wedding and have my parents and George's parents approve of him. Then, there's some sort of ceremony that breaks the bond."

"That sounds simple enough," said Charlotte.

"Do you really think that anyone's in a hurry to marry me before I'm 21?"

"Uh – "

"Exactly."

"You should at least talk to George. You know, devise a plan," said Minnie, a day later.

"It all makes sense," I muttered, ignoring Minnie's comment for a second.

"What makes sense?" asked Wendy.

"His comments and actions. Last year, we were more or less just cousins that are friendly. This year, he was determined to get on my good side, but was failing because he was rushing too much. Remember that Transfiguration lesson when George barged in?"

"Yeah," said Wendy.

"He said 'if incest weren't technically illegal, I'd snog you right now' to me."

"'Technically illegal'?"

"Yeah, and then there was that time in Potions where he stroked my cheek."

There was a pause.

"You could break the betrothal by doing what you said yesterday, but you could break it off with the other guy," said Wendy. I considered it.

"I actually think that might work. But who?"

There was another pause. Then, Minnie repeated what she had said before.

"You should at least talk to George."

"I don't see a point," I said, stubbornly.

"He's miserable! It's not his fault. For all you know, he could be following his parent's orders. He might not even want to marry you," said Minnie, folding her arms across her chest.

"I'll talk to him," I said, "Next year."

"Oh, come on, V," sighed Minnie, nudging me.

"Fine, fine, I'll talk to him. Soon. Don't rush me."

* * *

The following morning, I was in the library, searching for any book to help me on my History of Magic essay. I looked at the top of the shelf, trying to read the dusty titles when two people barrelled into me, scuffling.

"I need that book!" yelled a voice that I recognised as Tom Riddle's.

"So do I!" yelled another voice that I recognised as George's.

There were more shouts and yells before I managed to stand and fumble for my wand. I blasted them apart by using _protego_. They looked confused for a second before glaring at each other and standing up.

The book that they were so desperate to have had landed at my feet and I picked it up. To my surprise, the title read '_Hogwarts: A History_'. The very book I needed for my essay.

"Will one of you tell me what's going on?" I asked, holding the book so that they could see the title.

"It's not that hard," said George sulkily. Tom Riddle gave George another glare before answering me.

"If you must know," he said snobbishly, "_your_ cousin has tried to take this book off me when I so clearly had it first."

"Oh my God, I'm talking to first years," I mumbled to myself. Tom Riddle glared at me.

"Oh yeah?" said George defensively, "You already said that you finished _your_ essay. What do you need it for?"

"For matters that don't concern _you_, you petty blood traitor," sneered Tom Riddle.

"Hey," I said defensively, "I do not appreciate you calling my cousin that!"

"Oh, but he's not just your cousin, is he?" said Tom Riddle, a smirk on his face.

"And why should such matters concern _you_," I asked, glaring at him.

"You're right! Why should I meddle in such trivial matters when there are other things I should concentrate on, such as getting that book?"

"Why do you need this book? I thought that you, of all people, would rather burn it than read it," I said, glaring at him even more fiercely. There was a flash of something that looked like hurt across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it was there.

"I've already told you, blood traitor, it is because of private matters."

"You think your 'blood traitor' comments can agitate me and Virginia, don't you?" asked George with a glare.

"Oh, well, I suppose not," said Tom Riddle, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his robes, "But I can change those comments to something much more… _insulting_."

He had breathed that word right into my ear and I did something that I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have done if I wasn't as fired up as I was. I slapped him across the face.

"Get the hell away from me," I growled. His face was boyishly shocked and his hand pressed against the red mark I made on his face.

"You… you slapped me," he said accusingly.

"It's not like I'm going to deny it," I replied.

Words seemed to fail Tom Riddle, and I used this to my advantage.

I picked up my bag and the book, dragged George out of there.

"Why didn't you just find another copy of it?" I asked him angrily. He glanced up at me, as though I had offended him.

"Quite contrary to what Riddle thinks, we both picked it up at the same time and he insulted me… and you."

"Well, who cares?" I asked, throwing my hands up in the air. However, a spark of anger ignited in the back of my mind.

"I do!" said George, furiously. We had a glaring match for a few seconds before George sighed.

"Look, it's not my fault," he said softly. I knew he wasn't talking about Tom Riddle – he was talking about our betrothal.

I sighed as well.

"I know that. I guess I was a bit shocked, you know. Marrying my _cousin_, of all people. But, answer me this – how long have you known? And who told you?" I asked.

"I've known since I was nine… I kind of forgot about it until my parents reminded me last summer holidays," said George.

"What? You've known since you were _nine_?" I half-shouted at him.

"Yeah. I thought you did too," said George with a shrug, "Everyone else in the family did."

I groaned in defeat and left the library, the book still in my arms.

* * *

Bemused, I flicked to the next page of the book.

The words, 'Legend' 'Monster' 'Chamber' and 'Slytherin' were circled with a light pencil (Elizabeth had brought one to Hogwarts last year, and we all received one). I wondered what it meant.

"V."

I jumped, almost throwing the book in the air. I turned and saw George staring at me, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Can I have the book now?" he asked, still amused.

"Oh, yeah, sure," I said, passing him the book. I had finished my essay hours ago – I guess I just got too absorbed in the book. It was fascinating, actually.

"Thank you," said George.

He turned away and walked to the desk in the common room, grinning.

I had noticed that George's mood had brightened considerably after his squabble with Tom Riddle. I guess it was because I started talking to him again, or it could've been the fact that he had fought Tom Riddle – a feat that no one had never done before.

I rubbed my eyes and leaned back in the couch, yawning.

"Guess it's time for me to go to bed," I mumbled to myself. I hadn't realised how tired I was – I got side-tracked, I suppose.

I picked up my bag and climbed the girls' dorm stairs. Before I reached the top stair, I turned and watched George. He just finished writing a paragraph in his essay before a first year boy tripped and hit his head on George's table. The ink bottle swayed and dipped on George's essay.

Instead of yelling at the boy, like I expected him to, he just laughed and helped the boy to his feet. George had him laughing within seconds and George ruffled the boy's hair before letting the boy go about his business.

George turned to his essay with a sigh and dried it with his wand, and scrunched it up into a ball and placed it in the fireplace. He watched it burn for a while, as did I, then he turned and grabbed his bag and went up the boys' dorm steps. Hopefully he didn't notice me.

I wondered about what happened with the first year boy. I had expected George to yell at him and leave in a drama queen sort of fashion. I thought I knew George.

I guess he was growing up and changing, and so was I. But was it for the better?

I didn't know and instead of dwelling on it, I went to my dorm, got ready for bed and fell asleep.

* * *

I glanced at Bess Worthy and then at Minnie, Charlotte, Wendy and Elizabeth.

"Should we call for help?" I asked, after getting over the shock.

No one answered me. Instead, they all stared at the stony girl before them.

A short sentence in bright red paint shone on the wall above Bess Worthy, her face having a shocked expression. I didn't want to think that she was dead, so instead I thought that she was sleeping and taking very small breaths.

_The Chamber of Secrets has finally been opened by the true heir of Slytherin. Mudbloods beware!_

Elizabeth choked back a sob. I glanced at her and patted her back in a comforting manner.

"Don't worry, it's some sort of prank. I mean, Bess'll probably turn the corner and say "Who's that?" and it'll be all blown over," I said.

"I don't think it's a prank," said Elizabeth in a shaky voice.

"Should we call for help?" asked Minnie, staring solemnly at the Ravenclaw girl before us. She was a friend of ours, but I guess we weren't ever really close to her. Otherwise, we would've been crying. Instead, we were shocked.

"I think we should," said Charlotte quietly.

"I'll go," said Wendy. She dashed down the corridor and banged on Professor Dumbledore's classroom door. We all had a free period and I suppose that Professor Dumbledore was less than happy to be disturbed mid lesson.

I heard footsteps hurrying towards us, and Professor Dumbledore soon appeared. His face grew very serious when he saw Bess and read the words on the wall.

"Go get Madam Roberts," he said urgently. This time Charlotte dashed off.

"Sir," I said tentatively, "Is she… will she be alright?"

Without answering me, Professor Dumbledore bent to his knees and touched the side of Bess' face.

I didn't ask what he was doing. I waited for him to explain.

"She is Petrified," said the Professor gravely after a while. He stood and waited patiently for Madam Roberts, I assumed.

"What's that?" asked Elizabeth.

"It means that she will be alright with the right potion," he said kindly.

I looked to the floor, wondering what all this meant. For the first time, I noticed a puddle of water before Bess. I looked to the girls' bathroom, which had water rushing from under the door.

All the girls knew that there were two faulty taps in the bathroom. One never worked and the other worked too well and it needed to be fixed, but no one ever got around to it I suppose. Maybe a first year girl had turned it and rushed out before getting wet and she neglected to tell a teacher. It needed the help of a fully grown adult to turn it off.

I wondered it if was just Bess' luck that the puddle was there. A chill ran down my spine.

* * *

The news had travelled fast and everyone was suddenly even more suspicious of the Slytherins than they were already. A few Ravenclaws even hated them and refused to eat in the Great Hall, though I thought that that was taking it a bit too far.

"It's their fault!" yelled Bess' boyfriend, glaring at them.

"Calm down, William," said Bess' best friend, who looked as though she hadn't slept very well the night before.

I had noticed that Tom Riddle seemed awfully smug, and I hated him for that. A girl had just been Petrified and here was Tom Riddle skipping down the corridor singing 'Joy to the World'!

Well, he really wasn't skipping or singing 'Joy to the World'. I think I would've slapped him again if he did.

In any case, George had taken to trying to lighten everyone up.

"It's all about having really big pants," he said to a frightened first year girl, "Because that scary thing in there is not scary at all. He's just a clown that has a large, round stomach, thick blonde hair, is good at Potions. All he wanted was big pants. But, the 'Heir of Slytherin' didn't have big enough pants for the clown, so the clown decided to flash the next girl he saw."

The girl and I looked at him, very puzzled.

"Isn't that an exact description of Slughorn?" I asked him.

"No, silly," said George, patronizingly. I glared at him.

Then, the girl laughed and laughed.

"You're so silly George!" she said, giggling.

He beamed at her, and winked at me. I looked away quickly, cheeks flaming with embarrassment of being caught looking at him.

George put his arm around my shoulders and walked with me to my next class – Defence Against the Dark Arts. With the Slytherins. Great.

"Bye, Jane!" he called back.

"Bye bye George!" she called back, skipping away.

"So, V," said George, grinning.

"What, George?" I asked. A group of smirking boys made their way to me and I glowered at them, somehow knowing what they were going to say. The summer holidays obviously hadn't gotten rid of their immaturity.

"Hey, Virgin," said one, grinning his arse off. The others laughed.

I didn't answer him.

"You know, I could remedy your nickname," said another, with a suggestive wink. George's grip on my shoulders tightened.

I still didn't answer, but I noticed one looking me up and down with interest.

"Let's go," I said to George forcefully.

"And ruin the fun?" one boy remarked.

"This is so fun, I'm laughing so hard on the inside that I can barely breathe," I said drily.

"Feisty," said one with a leer directed to me, "I like it."

The grip on my shoulders tightened even more.

"George," I said as a warning.

"Oh, but I forgot!" said the first one with an air of fake surprise, "You two are together in some sick way, aren't you?"

I suddenly realised why George was gripping my arms so tightly – it was because he was trying to not launch himself of them. And, as a matter of fact, he held me in place.

"Why yes!" exclaimed the second, "You two are… _betrothed_."

"But that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun, does it, Virgin?" sneered the third.

And, without realising I had done it, I kicked him in the groin. He dropped to the ground, groaning in pain. The others looked at each other in alarm. I never struck one of them before.

"Let's go, Henry," said the second, pulling the third up by the sleeve of his robe.

"Yeah, let's leave these two lovebirds alone."

"We are not LOVEBIRDS!" I yelled at their backs. They dashed around the corner and suddenly, the world was spinning. We were walking in the other direction, to Defence Against the Dark Arts, and quite quickly too.

"That was… brilliant," breathed George the moment we got to Defence Against the Dark Arts. He gave my shoulders a quick squeeze and then he jogged off to Transfiguration. My classmates were still lined up and waiting for Professor Vines.

The thing about Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts is that the boys and the girls are separated, for some unfathomable reason. I would've thought that Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts would've been separate – after all, the boys can charm the girls' robes to be invisible, or something like that. Well, they did. Last year, and to Minnie. She was _not_ impressed. And the boys can go and scare the heck out of the girls in Defence Against the Dark Arts by impersonating werewolves or such. But then again, the boys could go ahead and do that anyway, no matter what class they were in.

* * *

"Is incest illegal?"

I clenched my quill in anger. Professor Vines looked at the grinning swine, Harriet Johnson, in alarm. God, did I hate that pig.

"Well, I suppose not," he said thoughtfully, "At least in the Wizarding World. How are the purebloods meant to sustain their blood status without marrying each other?"

He paused for a second, and I felt his eyes rest on me for a moment before he continued.

"I suppose that one day you will have to marry one of your own family, no matter how distant they may be."

Harriet's face scrunched up in disgust and embarrassment while Elizabeth, Minnie, Charlotte, Wendy and I laughed. Harriet slumped back into her seat, defeated by her own teacher.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," said the Professor. The door opened and… George was in the doorway. He threw his bag into the seat next to me, which toppled and fell onto the ground with a crash.

"Hello ladies… and manly Professor," he said, walking towards the Professor with a slip of parchment in his hands.

The Professor read it, rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Very well. You may sit… there."

The Professor pointed to the empty seat next to me – Elizabeth was sitting next to Charlotte, and Minnie was sitting next to Wendy.

"Oh, hello there, dear cousin. I didn't see you there," said George with a smirk.

"Yeah, right," I said back.

"Yes, I am right."

"Whatever."

"As I was saying," said the Professor, a stern look directed at George and me, "The art of Transfiguration is about to become more nit-picky and delicate…"

He droned on and on and on about something that I had heard about from the other students and last lesson – the Professor's memory wasn't all that flash. No one bothered to correct him – less work, I suppose.

"Why did you come here?" I asked George who was doodling an interesting-looking rock on parchment.

"I got kicked out of Transfiguration. Too boring without you," said George slyly. I ignored his last comment and instead asked him why he got kicked out.

"I was sneaking towards the window and I had transfigured a rock into a huge fluffy pillow. I was about to jump out and escape to the Quidditch Pitch, because it's quite relaxing when it's empty. However, Dumbledore caught me and kicked me out… again."

"Ah," was all I said. I zoned out, for a few minutes I think, until George shook my shoulders.

"What?" I asked, slapping his hands away.

"Making sure you haven't fainted on me again," said George. I glared at him.

The teacher droned on and on again, and suddenly, George's hand shot up.

"Is the first chapter going to be on the test?" he asked. The Professor jumped, as if he had forgotten that he was in a room full of students and that he was lecturing them.

"… No, I suppose…" answered the Professor, suspicious.

"Good," said George. He opened the bag at his feet that he had thrown into the classroom when he walked in. He pulled out the textbook and promptly ripped out the pages of the first chapter.

The Professor spluttered at George's performance.

"I didn't mean… you can't just… why did you… it's a book… respect!"

"If it's not needed for the test, then why should it be there?" asked George smugly. Luckily, Harriet's hand shot up into the air.

"It's time to go to our next class, sir," she said sweetly.

"Class dismissed, then," said the Professor, distractedly.

I packed up my bags and practically ran out of the classroom, holding in my laughter. I cackled like the mad witch I was, and still am.

* * *

Tom Riddle glared at me and it felt as though he was burning a hole in the back of my head.

"He's still sour from our library encounter," George whispered to me.

"Of course," I said, still uncomfortable. We turned a corner and the feeling dissipated.

"Well, I guess that I'll see you at lunch," said George awkwardly. I glanced at him, wondering what he was being all awkward about. He gave me a significant look, and it dawned on me. He felt awkward about leaving me in the corridor in case the stupid boys came back again. At least, I thought that's what he felt.

"You do realise that you don't have to follow me around everywhere. I deal with them all the time," I said with an offhanded shrug. George scowled.

"You shouldn't have to."

"What's life without a few people who hate you?" I asked with a shrug as several people groaned in exasperation and pushed past us as we were blocking the corridor.

"They don't hate you," growled George, clenching his fists, "Quite the opposite."

"Right, well, I've got to get to Ancient Runes. Bye, George."

I dashed off before I could somehow anger him further.

Somehow, I got to Ancient Runes on time for the first time since my third year – it was a miracle and I knew something I didn't like was about to happen. I heard a quick succession of footsteps and a turn of the doorknob before Professor Argent appeared in the doorframe.

"Enter, students," said the Ancient Runes Professor, opening the door. She cast an approving look at me as I entered. I smiled back at her, even though I had an uneasy feeling.

"Sit, sit. I have an announcement to make," said the Professor, beaming at us, "We have a new student joining our class today due to insufficient numbers in his other class, Arithmancy. His name is Tom Riddle."

I turned to my left – where the Professor was looking. Tom Riddle was sitting diligently beside me and a girl named Samantha Greens. I must've passed him on my way in or completely failed to notice him. Tom Riddle nodded with a smile that made Samantha Greens swoon. Gosh – I hated how he always managed to do that.

"Thank you, Professor."

"Now," said the Professor, turning to the blackboard, "We are studying the Ancient Wizarding Nomads of Ireland."

She lifted a slab of rock so that we could all see the inscriptions on it. They were quite straight and geometrical compared to the unit we were working on for the past few weeks – the Ancient Wizards of China.

"These runes are fairly simple to translate – each letter represents two letters in the English alphabet, except for this symbol here…"

The Professor turned to the board behind her and drew a symbol that was a line and three dots going vertically on the right side of the line.

"This symbol represents a break in the rune. For example, this rune represents a T and an H. If this symbol is after that rune, it means that either the T or the H is unneeded in that word. The rest of the runes tell us which letter it is."

The Professor turned back from the board after writing the number 215 and a few questions on the board.

"If you would kindly turn to page 215, it explains how to translate the runes. I will come around and put a slab that has the runes on it on your table. You need to translate it and answer these questions. The slab is between two of you."

To my surprise, the Professor managed to carry all ten slabs in her arms. Then again, she probably bewitched them to make them feather light. I counted all the seats at my row and I groaned. Tom Riddle would be partnered with me.

The Professor came around to the row that I was sitting in and, as I had expected, placed a slab on Sara-Jane Matthew's desk, Samantha Greens being her partner. The Professor placed a slab on Tom Riddle's desk, after asking him if he was alright with the runes and him replying with a "Yes, yes ma'am, I'm fine with the runes." The Professor instructed me to help him when he needed it, and then the Professor placed a slab on the desk next to me.

Tom Riddle glared at me the moment the Professor turned her back.

"What?" I asked coldly.

He didn't answer. He turned away and peered at the slab, with a look of concentration. Frustrated, I started to translate the runes, and it wasn't until the last few minutes of the lesson that Tom Riddle spoke again.

"You're very notable," he said rather matter-of-factly.

"Pardon?" I asked, blinking.

"I said that you're very notable," he said again, this time a bit exasperated.

_What kind of person says that?_ I asked myself, bewildered.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked instead.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, rolling up his parchment.

"No, otherwise I wouldn't have asked," I replied. In answer, he gave me a dashing smile and said smoothly,

"You are different to all those other girls at Hogwarts."

"Oh, please," I replied with a scoff, "You've been reading too many fictional novels."

"You are different," said Tom Riddle, still unfazed.

"Tell me one difference between me and all the other girls at Hogwarts," I said doubtfully.

"I can name three if you like," said Tom Riddle with a shrug.

"Alright then," I said, lifting an eyebrow and putting my Ancient Runes textbook into my bag.

"You slapped me, you don't swoon at my every move and you're attractive."

I almost choked on my own spit. Tom Riddle thinking _me_ as attractive? He must be delusional. I told him so. He shrugged.

"It's my opinion. You don't have to agree with me."

Professor Argent stood up from her desk and announced that all the students were dismissed. Tom Riddle slung his bag over his shoulder and disappeared through the door. I looked at his retreating back thoughtfully.

* * *

"Hey, remember that time when you broke your leg?" asked George with a snigger. I glared at him.

"How could I possibly forget?" I asked him irritably, "You keep bringing it up."

He grinned at me, pulling me into his chest in a friendly manner. Elizabeth looked confused.

"What happened?"

"Virginia here," said George, giving my arm a squeeze while I just flushed with embarrassment as he continued on with the story, "Broke her leg and acted like a muggle about it. Granted, she was only six, but still. She cried and whined and publicly embarrassed herself, even though my mother had eased the pain for her. My mother is not the best at healing bones and we had to wait for V's mum to come back home."

"I don't see how that's embarrassing," said Charlotte, looking at me.

"That part is yet to come," said George with a smug smile.

"Oh God," I muttered, horrified.

"Now, as you know, there we all are, waiting for V's parents to come home. This was a family get together, and V's parents had gone off to get a few things. V had been playing on the swing set when, quite suddenly; she fell off at a huge height. So, she broke her leg. My mum had managed to placate her with an ice lolly, and because it's the middle of summer, V decides to strip down to her underwear. The remarkable thing is that she decides that even down to her underwear is not enough. So, here is my future wife with a broken leg and sitting in the front of her house, nude, and eating an ice lolly."

I put my head in my hands in embarrassment as all my friends laughed.

"And, the boy from down the street was staring at her like she was mad as well," added George with a laugh. This received a few more laughs.

"Ah, V, at least it wasn't last year or something like that," said Minnie, patting my shoulder reassuringly after she sobered up. George became a bit pink after her comment. Wendy, after cottoning on to his train of thought, slapped him on the arm. It was after she slapped his arm that I realised why George was blushing, and I blushed too.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"You two are just as bad as the other. C'mon, let's get to dinner."

* * *

"Minnie?" I asked as we walked to Divination. Wendy had gone before us in favour of her new boyfriend, Charles Donley. I didn't understand how she could be with him, but she seemed happy, and that was all that mattered.

"V?" she replied with a grin.

"You know our Tom Riddle discussion?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's in my Ancient Runes class and we talked a bit at the end of it and told me a few things," I said hesitantly, not sure if I should tell her, even though she was my best friend.

"Oh, go on then," said Minnie, with a huge grin.

"He told me that I was 'notable' and he told me three reasons why."

"Ooh!" said Minnie excitedly, linking her arm through mine, "Is one of the most handsome boys in Hogwarts expressing an interest in my dear V?"

"I'm not sure. He said that I was different from the other girls because I slapped him and I don't swoon at his every move."

"Well, that's good then!" said Minnie, with a mischievous look in her eye. She unlinked herself and skipped ahead. She turned around and started walking backwards so that she could still see my face.

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, I've been playing matchmaker," started Minnie before I interrupted her.

"Was it _you_ that set Wendy and Charles up?"

Minnie blushed.

"Well, yeah, but that's beside the point. The point is that I think you and Tom Riddle would be good together."

"But I'm betrothed!" I said.

"That doesn't mean that you can fool around a bit – the marriage is in seven years, including this year," said Minnie reasonably. I looked at her doubtfully.

"Why do you think your parents haven't told you about your betrothal?" said Minnie.

"Wall," I told her abruptly.

"Huh?" she asked before walking straight into the wall.

She stopped for a moment to regain her bearings, and then she brushed herself off before setting off again, turning right and still walking backwards.

I shook my head and followed her, thinking carefully about what I was going to say before Minnie started talking again.

"Hey, you haven't told me the third thing he said to you."

"He said that I was attractive," I said quickly, still hardly daring to believe it.

"I knew it!"

Minnie pumped a fist into the air, twirled in mid-air, and ran off down the corridor. I stared after her retreating back, confused out of my mind.

"Are you alright, Minnie?"

"Never better! Tom Riddle _likes_ you!"

"No, no, no, no, he doesn't! I mean, yeah, I'm different according to him, but that doesn't mean he _likes_ me."

Minnie scoffed, slowing down to allow me to catch up to her. To my surprise, we were already underneath the ladder that allowed students to enter the Divination classroom.

Minnie climbed up the ladder first, and I climbed up after her.

Professor Moore was flitting around the room, as usual, and she stopped in front of us with a disapproving glare.

"Girls, you are late. Do you have a reason?" she asked, the students behind her looking at us curiously.

"Yes," said Minnie confidently, "We were betrayed by our bodily functions."

I couldn't help myself – I snorted with laughter and I couldn't stop.

"Don't worry, Professor," said Minnie very seriously, "Virginia here has gone mad. I'll escort her to St. Mungoes after this lesson has finished."

I laughed even harder, and I didn't know why. I still don't.

"That won't be necessary," said the Professor stiffly, "She just needs to be escorted to her seat."

"Are you sure, Professor? I could escort her now…"

"Just sit down, Miss McGonagall."

"Yes sir – uh, I mean, yes ma'am," said Minnie. I started laughing again.

"Come here, dear child," said Minnie. I allowed myself to be led to my seat, giggling. I briefly thought that someone had cast a cheering charm on me, but that thought had dissipated just as quickly as it came.

The Professor sent me a disapproving look before clearing her throat and continuing on with her journey around the room.

"So, what are we _actually_ doing?" asked Minnie.

"I don't know," I said, drawing myself up proudly.

"Are you alright, V?" asked Wendy suddenly, shuffling me over so we could share a seat. Charles followed her and shuffled Minnie and I down further. It was lucky we were sitting on a couch otherwise we would've all toppled onto the floor.

"Perfectly fine!" I exclaimed with a giggle. I outstretched my arm and somehow managed to tumble and I fell off the couch backwards.

"Has she had any Butterbeers?" asked Charles with a slightly disapproving look as my friends and I roared with laughter.

Within seconds, our Divination Professor appeared, arms folded across her chest and her face decidedly less than happy.

"I don't suppose that you don't even know what you're doing," she said crossly.

"I know what I'm doing," I giggled, "I'm lying on my back like a tortoise!"

The Professor sighed.

"It's her off day, isn't it?" she asked no one in particular.

"I'm afraid so," said Minnie solemnly.

"We are working with tea leaves this afternoon," said the Professor briskly, "I suggest you each get a cup and I will come around and fill it with water and tea leaves."

Charles collected four cups for each of us. The Professor hurried to her desk and brought back a jug and a small box of tea leaves. She put down the jug and placed a pinch of tea leaves in everyone's cup, and filled the cups with boiling water to the brim.

"My God!" I cried as I picked up the cup, "It's warm!"

The Professor pursed her lips and walked off to attend to another student.

"Of course it's warm," said Wendy with a roll of her eyes, "Have you ever heard of cold tea?"

"Yes," said Minnie, "I always have it when I go to my great aunt's house and she starts talking about her adventures in the 19th century. She forgets about the boiling water, you see, so she puts in cold water. It tastes awful."

* * *

The next time I saw Harriet Johnson was the week after, and she had radically changed. Not in personality, though, and this was very unfortunate.

Her hair was piled on the top of her head and straightened to the point of damage. Her hair, which had been a light brown the week before, was now a sickly blonde that was definitely not natural. Her skirt was so short that every step she took made it flutter up and flash everyone within her vicinity. Her shirt was open, dangerously exposing cleavage and her chest looked so overstuffed that I almost gagged.

Her shirt clung to her form so closely that she could have been naked and, from all the looks the guys gave her, she was good as. Her shoes, oh God her shoes, they were so high that I didn't understand how she could keep her balance. She had so much makeup on that she looked like a pancake rather than the attractive, natural looking girl that she obviously aspired to be. Her skin was so orange that I wondered how many carrots she had been eating the night before, and it was so blotchy that I wondered if she had a rash or something.

"What _happened_ to her?" I asked Minnie, who looked completely aghast.

"I don't know, and I'm scared for all of us," she replied after getting over the shock of seeing such fakeness.

"Agreed," said Elizabeth, Charlotte and Wendy in unison.

Suddenly, Harriet spotted the group of us and made her way towards us with a malicious grin. When she walked, her hips swayed so much that I thought she would fall over.

"Geez, what happened to you?" I asked her the moment she reached us.

"Something _amazing_," she purred. I glanced at George, who seemed to have been frozen and completely taken by her chest. I hit him on the stomach and he seemed to have momentarily snapped out of it.

"Hey, if the boy wants to look, the boy wants to look," said Harriet seductively. She inched forwards and gently placed her hands on his shoulders, taking all of his attention. She smiled at him, and I could hear his breath hitching. I rolled my eyes. Harriet swiftly hoisted her skirt up even further, which I thought was impossible.

"Why would he?" asked Elizabeth fiercely, "You look so unappealing that I'm wondering how you could even _think_ that guys will like you."

"It seems to be working so far," replied Harriet with a smile.

"You're playing on his sexuality and hormones," said Wendy matter-of-factly and unabashedly, as though people threw around the word 'hormones' every day (an immature onlooker sniggered at the word), "Therefore it _has_ to work. However, this'll get old and they'll wonder how they fell for a swine such as you."

Harriet scoffed.

"You're just jealous."

"That's probably the most incorrect statement I've ever heard in my life," said Wendy without missing a beat.

Harriet obviously didn't have anything to retort back with, so she just flipped her hair and released her hold on George.

"You'll see, you'll be begging for me soon," she said with a flirty wink towards George. She stalked off, swinging her hips like mad. She passed Tom Riddle down the hallway and he stopped and stared at her. I felt somewhat angry until he blinked, raised an eyebrow, and shook his head in amusement.

I didn't realise I was staring until Tom Riddle started walking towards me, amusement written all over his face.

"This new fashion is probably the worst I've seen yet. I hope you won't take part in it," he said.

"Ha, like I'd want to," I snorted.

Tom Riddle smiled in satisfaction.

"Ladies," he said to my friends. He completely over looked George, but George looked rather dazed and unfocused so nothing more was said. Tom Riddle continued walking down the hallway.

"Well then, shall we continue on?" asked Elizabeth.

"Suppose so," said George, speaking for the first time since Harriet came by.

"I hope that awful fashion fad disappears soon," said Charlotte.

"I hope so too," said Minnie.

* * *

However, the next day, it seemed as though half the girls in Hogwarts were fond of Harriet's fashion choice.

"How can guys be trapped by this?" I asked furiously in the library, after seeing three girls walk past with their fake blonde hair piled on their head and swaying their hips off.

"I don't know. Perhaps we should ask George," suggested Wendy, turning a page of her book.

"Wait a moment, where is he?" asked Elizabeth, sitting up from her relaxed position on a large cushion on the ground.

"He's probably in a broom closet, kissing Harriet furiously," I said lightly, flipping to another page in my book.

"You're alright with this?" asked Charlotte.

"'Course I am," I said, "Why wouldn't I?"

"You two are betrothed," said Minnie.

"So? There's seven more years until that happens. Besides, we've dated other people before," I replied.

"Yeah, but you didn't know that you and him were to marry when you're twenty one," pointed out Wendy.

I didn't answer her.

* * *

George sidled beside me in the Great Hall the following day.

"Hey, do you mind if I date other people?" he asked me straight away.

"No," I replied. He looked taken aback.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm serious. So long as you don't mind if I date other people," I said with a shrug.

"That's… wow, OK, yeah sure," said George, looking relieved.

"Why did you ask me? What did you think I was going to say? 'No, you're _my_ George, I don't want you to go and date other girls!' You've known me all my life, you should know that I'd be chill about it for now. I'd get pretty annoyed if you asked me in five years, though," I said, turning back to my breakfast.

George didn't say anything for a while, and I thought he had left until he patted my shoulder.

"Thanks, V."

He left the table and I looked up at Minnie and Elizabeth, who had watched the whole exchange with a guilty look.

"What is it?" I asked.

"We know who he's going to ask out," said Charlotte, who was sitting on my right.

"Who?" I asked, eager for gossip. Wendy moved down so that she was next to me.

"Harriet Johnson," she said solemnly.

I laughed.

"Oh my God, he's really going to go for her, isn't he? Who knew…" I said. They looked surprised.

"You really don't care?" asked Minnie.

"Why should I?" I said, "I mean, we're free to see other people. I'd be pretty mad if we were _married_ and he went out with her. Maybe even two years before our marriage. I'd rather spend that time really getting to know George and being comfortable in the relationship rather than have a boyfriend and break up with him the day before I get married."

"Whoa," said Elizabeth.

"So, you're not mad about the fact that George is going to ask Harriet Johnson out on a date?" asked Charlotte.

"You people sound like a broken record – I honestly don't care. I'd rather watch the spectacle then get mad over it," I said, a bit exasperatedly.

"What about if he asked a _guy_ – "

"You people! I don't care if he asked my _cat_ out! I'd rather be free for about five years, rather than be constricted to one person for seven years and not enjoying one bit of it!"

"Alright, alright, we'll get off your back about it," said Elizabeth, her hands up in a 'Whoa, calm down' sort of way.

"Thank you," I said, "Could we change the subject please?"

"Sure. What happened to your cat the other day, V?" asked Charlotte.

"Oh, Ginger decided that jumping out of the window was the best plan in the world! Luckily she was on the first floor corridor, but it gave her such a shock that she's decided to hide in my bed for the better part of the day," I replied.

"Aww," said Elizabeth, "She looks so cute when she's in your bed."

"So long as she doesn't look ugly," I replied with a grin.

"That's true," said Minnie. We glanced at each other and started laughing our heads off.

* * *

"Oh my – "

"Don't say it."

"I wasn't going to. I was going to say 'Oh my hair'."

"Of course you were, Charlotte."

My friends and I were crowding around the notice board in the common room the following Saturday. A bright yellow notice was pinned onto it, proclaiming that there was to be a Halloween dance in the next few weeks.

"Do you think Charles will ask me?" asked Wendy, her eyes glittering with anticipation.

"You know, for all your brains, you get quite jittery by your feelings about guys," said Minnie.

"So?" said Wendy, "I am still a girl, you know."

"Didn't say you weren't," said Minnie, bumping into Wendy's shoulder gently.

"Pfft, yeah right," said Wendy, bumping back with a grin.

"I don't think I'll be going," said Charlotte quietly.

"What?" cried Elizabeth, "You can't _not_ go!"

"I don't think anyone will ask me," said Charlotte.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked her, "You're _gorgeous_!"

"Well, it's not that… I think all the weirdos will ask me," said Charlotte, looking at her feet.

"Honestly, Charlotte, you're so shy when it comes to boys!" said Minnie, leading us all to the couch.

"It's not that. It's just that… I've got my eye on someone, and when I do, I refuse to be asked out by another guy," said Charlotte, sitting next to Minnie.

"Hmm. Has he got a girlfriend?" asked Wendy, sitting beside me. Elizabeth sat on my other side and next to Charlotte.

"Of course not!" said Charlotte, offended, "I would never go after a guy who's with someone else!"

"Just asking," said Wendy.

"Well, perhaps he hasn't noticed you?" asked Elizabeth.

"I think he's noticed me…" trailed off Charlotte.

"Well, if you want him to ask you to the dance, you've got to let him notice you!" said Minnie.

"But not outlandishly," added Wendy.

"Such as?" asked Elizabeth, interested.

"You know, being a Harriet," said Wendy with a shrug.

"That's true," agreed Charlotte, "I don't want to get the wrong type of attention… But… how?"

"Wait a second. Let me get my book," said Minnie.

"Not the book!" cried Elizabeth.

"Why not?" asked Minnie.

"Because that book is dated back a hundred years ago. Situations and morals have changed considerably," replied Wendy.

"Oh, whatever. It's still got good advice. Just for different situations," said Minnie.

"How about we test it?" I asked, "I mean, we've got about three weeks. Enough time to change our plans again."

"I guess," said Wendy doubtfully. Minnie smiled at her confidently.

"It won't work," sang Elizabeth as Minnie got up from the couch and raced up the dorm steps. We didn't have to wait around long – Minnie was back about ten seconds afterwards, carrying a faded blue book titled _How to be Proper_ by Cardinia Welsh.

Minnie sat down again and opened the chapter '_How to be Noticed by a Potential Suitor_'.

"Oh my God," laughed Elizabeth, "Are you serious?"

"Hey, it worked for me last year," said Minnie.

"Oh? Pray tell?" said Elizabeth with raised eyebrows.

"Well," said Minnie with a slight flush in her cheeks, "Do you remember David Appleby?"

"That prat?" laughed Elizabeth.

"Well, yeah. But I didn't know he was an idiot before I went out with him!" defended Minnie.

"Anyway, continue on," I said.

"The book said to get him to notice you by doing the little things, like handing him plates of prefilled food when he said he was extremely hungry instead of laying out all the choices and picking what you wanted. It also said to pay attention to what foods he liked and to make them every so often for him as a random treat," said Minnie.

"So that _was_ you, sending him the cupcakes!" I exclaimed. Minnie responded with a blush. I had had my suspicions before, but Minnie had just confirmed them, and as a result I made Minnie go bright red by making inappropriate comments.

* * *

"Will you go to the dance with me?"

I looked up at John Weasley in surprise. I barely knew him – he was in the year below me, and he looked really nervous. I wasn't sure what to say, and I was spared by his babblings.

"I mean, you don't have to, if you don't want to. Not that I wouldn't be upset if you said no. Uh – actually, upset isn't the right word, I don't cry or anything. Um, this is awkward, but I would like for you to go with me, but as I said before, you don't have to say yes – "

I cut him off before he could continue on.

"How about I think about it?" I asked him. He blushed furiously.

"OK," he squeaked before dashing off.

_He's really shy,_ I thought, _And quite cute too…_ _But never mind that – I think I should wait until a week before the dance._

And with that plan in mind, I continued down the corridor, grinning like a maniac. This was something my Potions Professor commented on later.

"You seem to be especially happy today," said Professor Slughorn, beaming.

"Well, you know how it is, Professor. Some days I'm sad, some days I'm happy," I said with a shrug.

"In that case, I don't think you'd oppose to my rearranging the seating arrangements?" asked Professor Slughorn.

"That depends on who I have to sit with, Professor," I said, slightly suspicious.

"Miss Bradley, I think that you are too distracted working with your friends," said the Professor, "I also think that you will have so much potential working without distractions."

I thought that the only thing I could do was cooperate with Professor Slughorn, so I agreed with his plan.

"I think I will move you every week for now, to spice things up a little and see who you work well with," added the Professor with a wink. I looked at him expectantly.

"I also think that you should move next to Tom over here," said the Professor, catching on quickly and gesturing over to where Tom Riddle sat with a grin.

_Why must teachers always do this?_ I asked myself with an audible groan. The Professor's beam dropped quickly and he lowered his voice.

"This will just be for a week, and I'm not picking on you. I'll be moving other students soon. Just think of this as a trial of sorts."

He didn't need to say anymore – I had already crossed the room with a weary, long suffering sigh and seated myself. Tom Riddle didn't say anything – I had seen him watching my exchange with Professor Slughorn with narrow, calculating eyes.

The lesson passed by without much incidence. Tom Riddle, his surrounding Slytherin buddies and I worked in relative silence. Until the very last moment. Again. I started to sense a pattern in Tom's behaviour.

"Do you like anyone?" he asked me directly. I noticed that his friends pointedly looked away and started chatting amongst themselves. _Hmm…_

"Do you mean romantically or platonically?" I asked after a pregnant pause.

"Both," said Tom Riddle, obviously amused.

"Well, I like most people in general. But, romantically, no one."

"I highly doubt that."

"Do you now?" I replied lightly, purposely leaving no opening for him to say any more on the matter. This didn't faze Tom Riddle however.

"Yes, I do."

"Why?" I asked, slightly intrigued.

"Because most people have informed me that saying 'no one' really means that they fancy someone but they just don't want to tell you."

"Do they now?"

"Just tell me. Then, I will get off your back about it," he said. This was the most… _normal_ response I had ever gotten out of him. It made him sound like a normal teenaged boy rather than a mature, calculating male who sounded far more posh and wiser than the rest of them.

"Tempting… but, I've already told you. I 'fancy' no one. I have no attraction to anyone at this current moment in time. I am neutral – I am Switzerland," I said with a shrug.

"Interesting metaphor," said Tom Riddle with a smile. Suddenly, it struck me as odd how Tom Riddle's smiles never reached his eyes.

"You should smile with your eyes," I said, "Perhaps it wouldn't make you look so forced and cold."

He added nothing to that, and I wasn't even sure if he heard me, for he had turned away from me.

* * *

The week in Potions passed by slowly, and I found that the only thing I was starting to look forward to was talking to Tom Riddle. The potions we were working on weren't very difficult, nor were they very interesting, so it was no wonder that the only thing I was looking forward to was talking to Tom Riddle. I had a feeling that these lessons were so boring because the Professor didn't really know what to do with us.

Over the week, Tom Riddle had taken to sounding more like a teenaged boy rather than a deliberate, exact 40 year old man. That didn't mean that he wasn't careful in choosing his words (still). I noticed that in the last few days, our conversations had become increasingly centred towards the Halloween dance.

"Who are you going with?" I asked him as I sliced off several caterpillar heads.

"I haven't thought about it yet, but I don't think I'll be going anyway," he answered, adding five beetle eyes to the cauldron.

"Why not? It'll be fun," I said, adding the caterpillar heads to the cauldron, turning the potion lime green.

"Your definition of fun and mine are different," said Tom Riddle with a pause. Then he sighed.

"But I suppose it might be fun," he said carefully.

"You never know until you try," I said with a shrug.

Tom Riddle didn't respond, and I knew that was it for the day. We continued working on the potion in absolute silence. Occasionally, I saw Tom Riddle glance at me and shake his head and I fought back the urge to ask him what he was thinking about.

I added the last ingredient and Tom Riddle stirred the potion counter-clockwise 5 times. I lowered the heat gradually until the fire at the bottom of the cauldron was out.

"Excellent," said Professor Slughorn with a smile and a nod of his head.

"Perhaps," the Professor added in an undertone to me, "You should stay in this seating arrangement until the holidays."

I must have looked less than pleased, for Tom Riddle chuckled and the Professor mumbled, "Maybe not."

The Professor bustled off and I leant back in my chair, closed my eyes and relaxed.

It wasn't long before Tom Riddle chuckled again.

"Is sitting next to me and talking to me bothering you?" he asked me. I opened one eyelid and I shrugged.

"Very informative response," said Tom Riddle. I shut my eyelid again and started to daydream about nothing in particular.

About five minutes later, Tom Riddle nudged me and I opened my eyes again and rubbed them. He got up from his seat and left the classroom. I looked around, noticing the empty classroom. The Professor wasn't in the room, either. He probably went into his office or out to lunch.

I didn't know how I didn't notice everyone cleaning up and leaving for lunch. I shook my head and picked up my bag and left the classroom.

* * *

"This is for you," said Colin McInnis at dinner, blushing.

"Thank you," I said with a smile, taking the gift he was holding.

He nodded and dashed off to his own table (which was Hufflepuff).

_Why do boys always do that?_ I asked myself. During the week, I had gotten two more invitations to the dance, and if this was another invitation then the total would be four. I couldn't understand why girls revel in all the attention – I'd rather be asked once from a remotely attractive looking guy (hey, if I'm going to be dancing with him for an hour or so, I'd want to be staring at an attractive face… unless he ripped open his shirt and had a toned chest… then I wouldn't mind about his face as much *insert girlish giggle here*).

I opened the present, and there was a card and a pretty little glittery figurine. I opened the card, and it read,

_Hey,_

_Do you want to go to the dance with me?_

_Colin M._

"That has got to be the most detailed and thoughtful card ever," I mumbled sarcastically.

"What was that, V?" asked Minnie as she sat down next to me. I handed her the card.

"Ooh, how many has that got to be now? 60?" she asked with a giggle as she handed it back.

"Hardly," I replied.

"Well, never mind that," said Minnie dismissively, "I've just been asked to the dance."

"Tell me more!" I said to her excitedly.

"Well, there isn't much to tell… except for the fact that I said yes and I'm not going to tell you who it is until the dance!" said Minnie mischievously.

"Oh, don't be like that," I complained.

"Don't be like what?" asked Wendy and Charlotte as they sat down around us.

"We might as well wait for Elizabeth," said Minnie.

"Why are we waiting for Elizabeth?" asked Elizabeth from behind me.

"Minnie has some excitingly mysterious news," I announced as Elizabeth took a seat.

"Righto, tell us," said Elizabeth.

"I got asked to the dance and I said yes," said Minnie proudly.

"Who asked you?" asked Charlotte.

"That's the mysterious bit," I interjected, "She won't tell me."

"How about we engage in a healthy dose of peer pressure?" asked Elizabeth humorously.

"How about we don't?" suggested Minnie with a grin, "You'll just have to be patient because not even torture will get it out of me."

"Fine," said Elizabeth, slumping back, defeated.

"Now, let's turn the conversation to something more interesting," said Minnie, "Such as Virginia's admirers."

"They're not admirers," I said, blushing, "They just want me to go to the dance with them."

"Who are they, then?" asked Charlotte.

"Uh, John Weasley, William Henley, Jeffery Kingsley, and now Colin McInnis," I said, ticking them off my fingers.

"What have you said to them?" asked Minnie.

"I haven't said yes to any of them, but I haven't said no to them either," I replied.

"That's leading them on," said Wendy.

"Well, I don't want to jump the gun, if you know what I mean," I replied, "And I haven't said that I might go with them. I just said that I'll think about it. Well, not to Colin because he gave me a card and a figurine, but to the others."

"Huh," said Wendy thoughtfully. Suddenly, Charles appeared by her side, a red rose (with the thorns cut off, thankfully) in his hand.

"Oh God," I muttered to Minnie, who nodded. Charlotte, Elizabeth, Minnie and I turned to our food and started to eat and chatter quietly amongst ourselves as Charles and Wendy talked about the dance. Charles kissed Wendy on the cheek gently then left, the rose in Wendy's hand.

"Well, I'm going to the dance with Charles," said Wendy happily.

"Now there's just three of us dateless dancers," I said.

"Actually, I've got a date," said Elizabeth sheepishly.

"Since when?" I asked.

"Since before I came in. The reason why I was late was because I was being asked out for the dance."

"And then there were two… unless you've got a date, too," I said to Charlotte, who shook her head.

"Given up. He's asked someone else," she said in a quiet voice.

"Oh, Charlotte," I sighed, "You could always go with someone else."

"I know… but I don't think I'll be going anyway," said Charlotte.

"You could always go alone and demand a dance with him," said Elizabeth.

"That's what _you_ would do," said Wendy.

"Why, of course. Isn't that what all of you would do?" asked Elizabeth, perplexed.

"… Definitely not."

* * *

I had contemplated what Wendy had said about leading the four – wait, sorry, _six_ – boys on for the next week.

I decided to go with none of them, and instead go with Charlotte as friends. That way, we wouldn't be going _alone_ and no one would get mad at either of us for dancing with anybody else.

I was happy with my decision and I skipped off to the common room to go and tell Charlotte about my idea.

"Being brainy and brawny makes no sense when you are neither, but it makes indefinite sense when you are both," I said to the Fat Lady.

"Oh, well done for getting the password right," said the Fat Lady with a clap of her hands.

She was about to swing open when I stopped her.

"Uh, why _did_ you change the password to a long and confusing sentence?" I asked.

"Oh, _well_, Violet had pestered me about trying something new and fun relating to Gryffindor students in particular, so instead of going for something ridiculous such as 'Gryffindor rules', I decided to go with a sentence that dealt with things that other houses say all the time about the Gryffindors," said the Fat Lady in one breath.

"Oh," I said, "That makes sense."

"It does, doesn't it?" said the Fat Lady, sounding very proud of herself. Then, her face fell into concentration and then into a confused look.

"I think you'll have to say the password again. My hinges have me rooted to the spot at the moment, and I was just oiled last week," said the Fat Lady.

"Oh, alright then. Ahem. Being brainy and brawny makes no sense when you are neither, but it makes indefinite sense when you are both," I repeated. The Fat Lady swung open with a large smile and I entered.

"Hi, Charlotte and Carlotta," I said with a wave to the light blonde girl who was sitting next to Charlotte on the couch. Carlotta Anderson was in the year below Charlotte and me, and Charlotte considered her to be a younger sister of sorts.

"Hi, V," said Charlotte and Carlotta in unison. Carlotta shuffled over on the couch to give me some room to sit down with them.

"I had this fantastic idea," I started, plopping myself onto the couch, "And it's about the dance."

"Oh, speaking of the dance," said Charlotte, "I've decided to go with Carlotta. But as friends, obviously."

"Fantastic," I said, "Because us three can go together. To make it look less gay, if you know what I mean."

"You want to make it look depressed?" asked Charlotte, confused.

"No, Charlotte," said Carlotta with a laugh, "She means the _other_ definition of gay."

"Oh, right. Yeah, I'm alright with that. You OK with that?" Charlotte asked Carlotta.

"'Course," said Carlotta with a shrug.

"Well, ladies," Charlotte said with a smile, "Perhaps it's time to go to Hogsmeade in the interest of getting some new dresses."

"Oh, all right," sighed Carlotta. Then, her expression changed.

"Hang on a minute-"

"Hanging on!" Charlotte and I declared, Charlotte grabbing the edge of the couch and me grabbing the coffee table. Carlotta looked at us, confused for a moment, before rolling her eyes with a laugh.

"You can let go of the couch and table," she said to us.

"But our minute isn't up," I protested.

"You're going to make me forget why I told you two nutters to hang on in the first place," warned Carlotta.

"That's the point, isn't it?" I asked, letting go of the coffee table regretfully. Charlotte let go of the couch.

"Anyway," said Carlotta, "There's no Hogsmeade weekend."

"That doesn't mean we can't go to Hogsmeade," said Charlotte.

"Are you serious?" asked Carlotta, her dark blue eyes darting around nervously, "You're planning to sneak into Hogsmeade?"

"Why not?" I asked, "Your experience at Hogwarts isn't limited _to_ Hogwarts."

"It kind of is…" said Charlotte.

"Shush, dear child. I was planning to let that thought toss over in her mind," I said.

"How about we go now?" said Carlotta, jumping up from the couch.

"Right now?" asked Charlotte, alarmed.

"Yes, right now," said Carlotta, "Otherwise I'll think about it too much and end up asking you two to get a dress for me."

"Uh, how about we gather a few more people and tell another that we're all hanging out in the Kitchens and then going to study in the library. Always good to have an alibi of sorts," I said.

"Alright," sighed Carlotta, "I might as well get changed and get my things anyway."

"Righto," I said, "Let's go gather some followers!"

"You make this sound like a gang," said Carlotta.

"It is. It's a gang of… dun dun dun… REBELS!" I said, dashing out the portrait door.

"You know, you can be as strange as your cousin," yelled Charlotte after me as soon as she burst through the portrait door.

"I know! Sometimes, it's fantastic to be this strange!" I laughed as I raced down the Grand Staircase.

* * *

"What about _this_ one?" asked Elizabeth, pulling out a sparkly, white, close fitting dress from the rack she was standing at.

"… This is a Halloween dance, not a cocktail party," said Minnie with a backwards glance at the dress.

"That's what you said about the last six dresses," said Elizabeth, putting it back.

"I know. I still can't believe that you don't get it!" teased Minnie. Elizabeth pouted and continued searching.

"Have any of you ladies found a dress yet?" asked the petite brunette shop assistant with a bright, glittering badge. The badge had the words 'Hi! I'm Marigold the shop assistant!' and a small, purple smiley face beside them. She fiddled with her two silvery bangles as she waited for a response.

"Not yet for me, Marigold," I said politely, rifling through another rack, adding the words 'the shop assistant' after her name to myself.

"You've got some lovely clothes here," said Charlotte, "So many to decide from!"

"Thank you," said Marigold the shop assistant, "I designed some of these with Polly."

She pointed to another brunette shop assistant who was flipping through a magazine behind the counter lazily.

"You have fine taste," said Wendy with a smile. Marigold the shop assistant nodded at Wendy with a smile and returned to the counter.

"Some of these are God-awful!" giggled Elizabeth once Marigold the shop assistant was out of earshot.

"But some," I said, pulling out a gorgeous forest-green dress that looked very Victorian era-esque from the rack I was at, "Are just plain _gorgeous_."

"Nice timing," nodded Charlotte.

"Nice _dress_," cooed Minnie.

"Quick, put it on," encouraged Carlotta.

I bustled into the change rooms and slipped on the dress, which fitted me quite well. I was about to unlock the door and show the rest of my friends when I heard the cheerful ring of the bell that announced the entrance of another customer fill the tiny room. The voice of George followed the ring of the bell.

"This is where most people buy their dresses for the dancing season," he said and I could imagine him waving his hand around the room with a flourish.

"I know that. How old do you think I am, five? I've been to Hogsmeade before," said the loud, snobbish voice of Harriet.

_Oh God,_ I thought with alarm, _what are they doing here?_ I pressed my ear to the mirror against the door of my changing cubicle and listened closely.

"Hello fellow Gryffindors," said George cheerfully, "Harriet and I are just here to coordinate outfits, as she has insisted on doing for the past hour or so."

"Hello George," said my friends in unison.

"That's strange," said George, "I swear I saw Virginia with you guys."

"Oh, she's around," said Elizabeth vaguely, and I could imagine her waving her hand dismissively.

"Hopefully hiding her ugly face," said Harriet venomously.

"Righto, that's enough of that, Harriet," said George quickly (I assumed Elizabeth or Minnie glared at Harriet and was about to say something spiteful to her. Charlotte, Wendy and Carlotta weren't really ones for conflict [unless, at least for Wendy, Wendy had something really witty to say, which was most of the time]).

I stepped back from the mirror and glanced quickly at my reflection.

_I think this is the one,_ I thought to myself before slipping it off. I wondered whether I should stay in the cubicle until Harriet went into another one, or go out into the shop and face Harriet (who had recently taken to flaunting her relationship with George and basically making my life as close to hell as possible).

I didn't feel like facing Harriet at the moment (yeah, yeah, denounce my Gryffindor-ness) and I decided to wait. I folded the dress over my arm and sat on the convenient shelf at the back of the changing cubicle. It turned out that I didn't have to wait long before Harriet claimed a dress to be 'perfect' and that she had to 'try it on immediately'. The cubicle beside me made a click that stated that Harriet had locked the door. The bell at the door rang cheerily and I heard my friends say, "Bye George!"

I slipped out of the change room and hurried to the counter.

"I'd like to buy this dress, please," I said to Marigold the shop assistant. She glanced at me and stood from her chair where she had been gossiping with Polly about some singer or another.

"That'll be fifteen galleons, five sickles, and six knuts," said Marigold the shop assistant, turning over the tag on the dress. _Oh God, this'll take forever! But man, is this a bargain or what!_ I thought to myself, grabbing my purse and digging around for the right sickles, knuts and galleons.

Eventually, I found the right amount and I handed it to Marigold the shop assistant who ducked under the counter, grabbed something that sounded like a money tin, and reappeared with a smile while Polly, chewing bubblegum with an open mouth, placed the dress in a nondescript bag, wrote down the receipt and threw the receipt into the bag.

"Thank you," I said to Marigold and Polly.

"Thank you for shopping!" said Marigold and Polly (who said this in a depressed sort of voice as though she could care less about my shopping there). I nodded and hurried to Minnie.

"Hey, I'm going to the Three Broomsticks for a Butterbeer. Meet me there later?" I asked quickly.

"Sure. Maybe you could catch up with George there," said Minnie, turning back to the clothes on her rack.

I left the shop, glancing back at the window to see Harriet bustle out of the change room, her face, hair, and skin the same, ugly, fake state as it had been for the past few weeks. I hoped to see the old Harriet back, mainly because she wasn't as annoying and pompous back then.

* * *

I couldn't deny it – the glimpse I got of Great Hall looked spectacular and I was intrigued to see the rest of it. I pulled Charlotte and Carlotta into the Great Hall eagerly – the rest of the school was already in there, save for the first and second years and several third years.

"Come on," I said to Charlotte and Carlotta, whose arms were linked with mine.

We examined the walls, which looked as though it was bleeding a mysterious orangey-red, and the sky was dark and cloudy, with a full moon hovering in the corner. Live bats circled up near the ceiling, occasionally coming down to scare the students or for food. The four House tables were gone, and in its place was several small round tables covered in black and orange tablecloths that had witches, wizards and other creatures that moved and talked occasionally. The candles were dim and streamers decorated the ceiling, and occasionally maple leaves rich in colour floated down to the students, but disappeared before contact was made. There was a long table full of food such as blood punch (which wasn't actually blood, in case you were wondering), cockroach clusters, ice mice, jelly slugs, sandwiches and much more. Suits of armor stood around the room, talking, dancing and flashing lights beneath the visor. Some humorous students were dancing the waltz with one. A strange fog was floating in the Great Hall near the students' feet, giving them an interesting effect. Where the table full of teachers usually was, there was a stage with live music playing.

"Wow!" breathed Carlotta.

"Wow indeed," said a voice from behind her.

We all turned to see a handsome fourth year who was smiling at Carlotta.

"May I have this dance?" he asked.

"Well – " I started before Charlotte cut me off.

"Yeah, sure."

The fourth year smiled at us, then at Carlotta and gently took her hand. She was blushing, and they both disappeared into the throng of dancing students. I watched them with a slightly unhappy expression.

"What's wrong?" asked Charlotte.

"If that guy was free in the first place, then why didn't he ask Carlotta to the dance?" I asked. We made our way to an empty table.

"Perhaps he already asked someone else out of pity? Maybe he wasn't sure if Carlotta would say yes? Perhaps he just woke up from the Hospital Wing after a serious concussion from a Quidditch practice session?" said Charlotte thoughtfully as we seated ourselves. I looked at her strangely.

"Where did you get the last one from?" I asked.

"I was reading a romantic novel," said Charlotte.

"How romantic," I laughed.

"It was very romantic, thank you very much."

"You're welcome."

"Oh, haha."

We glanced at each other, and then laughed our heads off.

"Ah, I thought I heard the cheerful laughter of a couple of birds," said a cocky boy from behind Charlotte. I recognized him as Lance King, a Ravenclaw boy in my year.

She immediately blushed, and I connected the dots. _Charlotte likes Lance King!_

"Hello, Lance," I said pleasantly.

"Hello, Victoria," he replied.

"Actually, my name is Virginia," I said with a small frown. _If I have the decency to remember his name, he should remember-_

"Oh, yes, Virginia. Sorry, I got mixed up with you and my cousin," said Lance with an apologetic smile.

"It's alright. I'm going to get some punch. Do either of you want some?" I asked.

"I'm right," said Lance. Charlotte shook her head.

"Well, I'll be back soon."

I left the table and immediately, Lance came around to my side of the table and sat down in my seat.

_Oh, whatever,_ I thought, _I shouldn't disturb them when I come back._

I wandered over to the table and looked at the selection of drinks without really looking at it. I was already bored and I had only been here for about ten minutes.

"Hi," said a voice behind me. I jumped, and turned around.

"Oh, hey," I said to John Weasley.

"Look, I know you didn't say yes to me, but… how about a dance?" he asked.

"A dance sounds good," I said with a smile. I slipped my hand in his and we started to dance the waltz in time to the music.

"So, did you ask anyone else?" I asked him.

"Yeah, but she's off dancing with someone else," said John with an indifferent shrug.

"That's too bad. You're a very good dancer," I said.

"Thank you. You're not too bad yourself," said John with a smile.

"Ah, well, Mum'll be happy," I said with a laugh. He gave me a questioning look.

"My cousins and I spent hours learning how to dance from Mum and her sister. She was a big believer in debutantes then. Not so much now."

"Ah," said John.

We danced quietly for a while before John spoke again.

"You know, I think that you look very beautiful tonight."

I blushed.

"Thank you. You're quite dashing in those dress robes," I said.

"My date didn't quite think so," said John with a humorous smile.

"Well, I think you do."

There was another pause.

"Who was your date?" I asked.

"Margaret Fletcher," he said, subtly spinning me around so that I could see who she was. She was a petite girl with flaming red hair, like John.

"She's quite pretty," I said to John.

"I know."

The song faded out and we let go of each other.

"Thank you. That was quite a dance," I said with a warm smile.

"I thank you too," said John, "See you around?"

"See you around."

* * *

"Hey, Minnie," I said ten minutes after my dance with John.

"Oh, hey!" exclaimed Minnie, turning around.

"Who's your date?" I asked her immediately.

"You're still curious?" asked Minnie with a laugh.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I asked, "You were being most mysterious on the matter."

"I suppose. It's Christopher Hale," she whispered to me.

"Really?" I asked her with a slight squeal.

"Yes really!"

"Well, have fun you two," I said with a wink, because I saw Christopher approaching us with two drinks.

Christopher Hale was a Gryffindor in our year, and he was one of the most sought out boys in our year. I waved to Minnie as I departed into the crowd with a girlish giggle.

* * *

Minutes later, I re-entered the dance crowd after sitting at a table. In the center of the crowd, George was dancing wildly and unpredictably to a slow song, Harriet watching on with a scowl. Several boys were whistling and egging him on.

"Don't break anything, George!" I yelled out.

"I won't," replied George in short huffs as he started twirling around. I rolled my eyes and turned away again, sitting at the same table as I was before.

Not long after, Tom Riddle joined me at my table. I looked at him in surprise.

"I thought you wouldn't come," I said.

"I didn't think so either," said Tom Riddle, "But someone convinced me to go."

For some odd reason, I blushed. I tried to force it to disappear, and I think it worked.

"And since I'm here," he said, "I might as well have a dance. May I?"

"Why not?" I said with a nonchalant shrug.

We moved to a more spacious part of the dance floor just as a new song started to play. This was another slow song, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted George finally getting up and dancing with Harriet (who obliged grudgingly).

Tom Riddle and I danced the waltz slowly, him treading on my feet a few times lightly. Other than that, the dance was enjoyable yet silent. Then, Tom Riddle started to say something softly.

"Pardon?" I asked him. He looked down at me in surprise. It suddenly occurred to me that Tom Riddle was quite tall.

"I was just talking to myself," he said pleasantly.

"Oh," I said, looking down at our feet. Tom Riddle suddenly twirled me around, forcing me to look back up at him.

"You look quite beautiful tonight," he said with a smile.

"Thank you," I said, blushing. For some reason my heart skipped a beat, but that could've been the fact that Tom Riddle decided to twirl me again without warning.

"Are you having fun there?" I asked with a smile.

"Why, yes, yes I am," he replied. Silence fell upon us once more, and the song ended.

"That," said Tom Riddle, "Was refreshing."

"Glad you think so," I said teasingly, "I seem to be permanently dizzy from those twirls you gave me."

"Permanently seems a bit much, don't you think?" asked Tom Riddle. I was about to answer when a mysterious someone latched onto my arm and started pulling me away from him. I glanced back at him and shrugged, deciding to go with the flow, so to speak. Tom Riddle smoothly disappeared into the crowd, and I had a feeling that was the last time I'd see him for the rest of the night. I glanced at my kidnapper and released myself from Carlotta.

"What was that for?" I asked, playfully pushing her.

"I thought he was antagonizing y-you," she said hesitantly. I looked more closely at her and noticed her face was wet with tears.

"Oh, Carlotta!" I sighed, "What happened?"

"He-he tried to k-_kiss_ me!" she started before bursting into tears. I patted her back and led her to a free table. I waited for her tears to subside when I asked for more information.

"And then what happened?"

"I told him that I wouldn't lose my first kiss in that way, without being in a relationship, and he c-called me a stupid cow and a tease!"

I immediately felt awkward – mostly because Carlotta was more Charlotte's friend than mine. I didn't say anything for a moment and Carlotta's tears started up again.

"Maybe h-he's right," said Carlotta through her tears, "M-maybe I'm nothing more than a stupid cow and a tease!"

"Of course not!" I said, "He's the stupid cow and the tease – it's his fault for wanting to take advantage of you! He has no right to call you names like that."

"But why do guys _do_ that?" she asked, wiping away her tears.

"Because they don't think with their heart," I said with an assuring nod.

"What else do they think with?" asked Carlotta. I blushed and luckily George decided to drop into the conversation.

"With their eyes," he said, sitting down next to me, "They're a stupid lot, boys are. Not all of them are like that, and they deserve to be their own separate species so that girls like you wouldn't fall for them – because who wants to be with a Jerkus Maximus?"

Carlotta laughed a tiny bit, but she still looked glum.

"Maybe that's all guys see me as," she said quietly, "A stupid cow and a tease."

"Well, I don't," said George with a smile, "And I'm sure I'm a guy. Unless you want me to double check, because someone could have turned me into a woman while my back was turned. Again."

"It was not my fault!" I said with a laugh.

"Then what where you doing? Randomly shooting sex change spells about?" asked George.

"… Well, yeah."

"She's hopeless, that one is," said George to Carlotta, gesturing to me. Carlotta laughed again.

"Anyway," said George, "Just ignore those guys, they aren't worth your time and they should respect your limits. If not, then forget about them. You're worth more than that."

"Thanks, George and V," said Carlotta, "I think I'll just head off to bed."

We watched her pass through the Great Hall doors, her long, silk hair-ribbon sailing behind her gently, her night completely ruined.

"That was really nice of you, George," I said to him, surprised.

"I can't be Mr. Crazy guy all the time," said George with a shrug, "And she was upset. What else should I have done? Called her a stupid cow and ended it there?"

"Definitely not," I said with a laugh. I checked my watch. The dance would be over in more than two hours, but I definitely didn't want to stay for that long.

"I guess I should go too," I said, getting up from the table.

"Aw," said George with a pout, "Why?"

"To be honest, there's no one to dance with and no one to talk to," I said.

"Well I'm here!" said George indignantly.

"What about Harriet?" I asked him.

"She was talking with some friends and I got bored and saw you and Carlotta."

"Oh."

There was a pause as I watched people dance.

"Want to have a dance?" asked George suddenly.

"Uh, OK?" It was more a question rather than an answer, but he took it as a yes and got up.

We danced quietly for a minute or two before George started talking.

"Are you _really_ OK with me dating Harriet?" he asked. I laughed – what was _with _these people and their obsession about my feelings towards George and Harriet?

"So long as it's mutual," I said indifferently.

"Pardon?" asked George, twirling me.

"Well, only if you really like Harriet and she really likes you," I replied with a shrug.

"What's that meant to mean?" asked George.

"Oh, never mind," I said, "You can probably figure it out on your own later."

We spun around in a circle and came in front of Harriet – furiously snogging the boy that Carlotta had danced with. The look on George's face was one of pure shock, anger, despair and hurt. He dropped my hand and waist and started towards the fourth year boy before I pulled him back.

"You don't want to do that," I warned.

"Why not?" he asked, hurt plainly evident in his voice.

"Because starting a fight in the middle of a dance is the worst thing you could do in this situation," I replied gently. He looked at me, then at Harriet and nodded, although I could still see shock, anger, despair and hurt in his eyes.

"I think I'll deal with it tomorrow," said George, and he jogged out of the Hall without looking back.

* * *

"Hey, V, could you do a _huge_ favour for me?" asked Minnie a week after the dance.

"Depends on what it is… I'm not changing my gender and acting like a man for a day again," I said warily.

"Will you let go of that? That was in the third year!"

"It was the most emotionally-damaging day of my life! Do you know how many girls were hitting on me in Hogsmeade? I'm not even sure if half of them were even girls!"

"Hey, I made up for it, didn't I?" said Minnie.

"By letting me date your cousin, who I had gotten over several weeks before _anyway_," I said.

"You should have told me that, though! I could've done something else more 'making-up-for-a-favour-esque'."

"Whatever. What's this favour you need me to do?" I asked, setting down my _Witch Weekly_ magazine down.

"I need you to fill in for my prefect patrol next Friday," said Minnie.

"Why don't you get another prefect to do it?" I asked.

"They're all busy patrolling other corridors. It's the busiest night of the week for sneaking out, besides Saturday. At least, for this week in particular," said Minnie.

"So… why aren't you doing your job?" I asked.

"I'm going on a date with Christopher," she said, her eyes glittering.

"So? Reschedule it."

"We can't – he's got a full schedule for the next few weeks and this'll be the first time we've gone on a date and I anticipate it so much and you'd be the best friend I've ever had if you'd do it for me, I mean, no one would tell anyone anyway, we all switch at some point," said Minnie.

"… Oh, alright, you've roped me in."

* * *

What Minnie neglected to tell me was that for patrolling the corridors, I had to do it with a partner. And the fact that my partner was Tom Riddle. When I arrived at the dungeons, Tom Riddle was waiting there with his hands in his pockets, looking at the floor. When my footsteps reached his ears, he looked up.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him in surprise.

"I could ask you the same question," said Tom Riddle.

"I'm filling in for Minni-Minerva," I replied.

"I see," said Tom Riddle.

"So, what do we do?" I asked him.

"We just walk up and down the corridor for an hour and then we go to another corridor around the Slytherin common room," replied Tom Riddle.

"Oh, alright. Sounds easy enough," I said with a shrug.

I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out Minnie's prefect badge. I pinned it to my chest and pulled out my wand.

"That's not necessary," said Tom Riddle with a slight frown.

"Why not?" I asked him, perplexed.

"Because there's enough light," he replied.

"I'm not using my wand for light," I said with a slight laugh, "I'm using it for entertainment."

"Of what kind?" Tom Riddle asked with a raised eyebrow and a grin that suggested impure thoughts.

"Oh, wow, not like that," I said, making a somewhat disgusted face.

"Then of what kind?" he asked again, dropping his suggestive grin and raised eyebrow.

"You'll find out later," I replied with a wicked grin.

"Are you sure your form of entertainment is 'not like that'?" asked Tom Riddle.

"Absolutely positive. Let's start this patrol."

I noticeably sniggered the next time I passed Tom Riddle.

"What is it?" he asked, turning around. I couldn't help but laugh. I had charmed Tom Riddle's face to bear the marks of someone who had used paint to draw round glasses, a swirly moustache, and added nose hair. Yes, I know that was inappropriate and immature, but I couldn't help myself – I wanted to be entertained during this boring patrol, and I was. I didn't answer him and I just kept on walking. I heard Tom Riddle pull out his wand, do some fancy charms on something and he let out an amused chuckle.

"I thought you were more mature for that," he said the next time we passed down the hallway. This time, instead of walking on, we stopped in the middle of the corridor.

"So?" I asked playfully, "Can't I entertain myself?"

"You can… but without involving me," said Tom Riddle, still with hints of amusement.

"Alright then, ruin my fun why don't you," I muttered. Tom Riddle chuckled again and off we went, back to patrolling the corridor.

"How do you remove this paint?" he asked after a few more laps of the corridor.

"Hmm… guess," I said cheekily, stopping again in the middle of the corridor.

"If you don't want to start a full blown, immature mini-war, I'd suggest you tell me how," said Tom Riddle.

"Perhaps that's what I wanted," I said with a grin.

"Are you seriously asking for it?" asked Tom Riddle, with another grin.

"Why yes, yes I am, Tom Riddle," I replied with a mock bow.

"Perhaps you are just too mischievous and cheeky for your own good," muttered Tom Riddle.

"Is that right, Tom Riddle?"

He didn't answer me, and we continued walking. As the patrol wore on, I could sense Tom Riddle becoming more agitated and thoughtful. The next time I passed him, the markings around his face had gone. I glanced at my watch and noticed that an hour had passed.

"We should go to the other corridor, Tom Riddle," I said to Tom Riddle. He nodded and led me to another corridor, and we started patrolling it. The more I passed Tom Riddle, the more conflicting emotions crossed his face. Hesitation. Agitation. Thoughtfulness. Determination. Humor. Humorlessness. Indecision.

When we passed again, Tom Riddle gently grabbed my shoulders. I looked at him, confused. It was the first time I had seen him touch _anybody_ (not meaning to sound stalkerish, but I noticed that he tried to avoid touching people). Actually, no. It wasn't the first time. I remembered that time when he woke me up from my daydream of sorts. I didn't know why I was thinking about Tom Riddle touching people, but it seemed to fascinate me so much that I didn't notice him pushing me back against the wall. I glanced up at him again.

"What's all this about?" I asked him. He ignored my question, and started talking.

"You know, you _could_ stop referring to me as Tom Riddle," said Tom Riddle as he pressed against me on the wall. My heart fluttered in my chest, either from panic or something else, but I tried to ignore it. In fact, I mentally told it to shut up.

"Well, what should I call you then?" I said, quieter than normal. For some odd reason, my voice didn't want to work properly. He deliberated for a moment.

"Just Tom will do… for now," he said in a hushed voice, his breath tickling my face. He smirked and relinquished his hold on me. I stood up straighter. I was here to patrol the corridor, not to get pushed against a wall and get requests made out of me from Tom Riddle – I mean, Tom.

**A/N: So! Waddya guys think? I mean, I'll still continue this on my own, but I won't post it on FF if no one likes it. And these weren't real chapters anyway – they were snippets of chapters…and I missed out on a few things (such as another attack, more 'alone time' with Tom Riddle and more random things) Review please? :D**


End file.
